


We Used To Be Friends

by twentysweet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Dark Past, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24894250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twentysweet/pseuds/twentysweet
Summary: Marauders Era meets Veronica Mars.Lily Evans, snarky, bold, one hell of a sleuth, daughter of the former Sheriff, is still reeling from the mysterious death of one of her friends, when a strange incident sets her down a dark path.James Potter, spoilt rich kid, high school quarterback, son of a magnate, resident jackass, is still recovering from a broken heart, when devastation irreparably changes his life.The town of Hogsworth, known for its gaping class divide, pervasive criminal underbelly and rolling coastline, is about to change, and for the worst.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	1. even an end has a start

_prologue ___

____

Oak. 

Oak.

Brown. 

Smooth. 

She willed the image to stick in her mind. 

Oak. 

Pale. 

It was skin. Skin so pale it was almost translucent. They’d like to know that. 

Grip.

Pain. 

But they wouldn’t know, because she wouldn’t be able to tell them.

Sneer.

More pain.

Her eyes unfocused. Sleep felt good, but this was better. 

Wet. 

Rain.

Leaf. 

Dark. 

...

"COME DOWN NOW!"

The static was deafening. 

The screen flashed. 

“Onions and celery in the pot, sauté for two minutes”. 

Flash.

“I love you Jackson, can’t you see, we have to be toge-”

Flash. 

“Crenshaw has the ball, great technique, real go-getter”

Flash.

“This is Shelby Collins, with the 7o’clock news. I’m here in Hogsworth, and we are seeing a particularly grim situation develop”. 

Pause.

“A body was discovered on the outskirts of the Great Lake, a female in her teens, fitting the description of the missing…”

“I SAID NOW!”

Frustrated. The remote. Thrown. Smashed. Battery and plastic. 

Slap.


	2. i see red

Lily watched as the tiny droplet of blood trailed down her skin. Watched the fluid attempt to defy the physics of nature, physics that demanded it crawl down her skin, and fall to the ground. But the viscous fluid defied its fate. It clung desperately to every curve, every hollow, every pore.

“Ms Evans, when you’re done staring at your hand, do you mind telling us what Mr Rochester’s motivations were when he disguised himself as the gypsy?” 

Lily snapped her head up. Ms Trunk stood at her desk, and tapped her long, emerald green nails against the laminate. Lily felt indignation rise in her throat. 

“I think it would be more transformative to discuss what Bronte’s motivations were” she offered, staring at the whiteboard ahead, refusing to meet Mrs Trunk’s condescending stare.

“That’s not the question I asked, Ms Evans.”

“Humour, I guess”, Lily obliged.

With one final tap of her nails, Ms Trunk dismissed Lily and continued her saunter down the aisle. 

“Well, Ms Evans hasn’t given us much to work with, on account that she clearly has not done the assigned reading”.

Snickers erupted throughout the classroom. Lily tore her gaze from the whiteboard and swivelled around.

“Considering the current political climate, y’know, culture wars, the rise of political correctness, feminist and LGBT theory, don’t you think analysing why Bronte, a nineteenth century female author, made her main protagonist a cross-dresser, is more important”.

“Perhaps, but it is not the question I asked”, Mrs Trunk repeated, her tone shrill. A low cough resounded from the back of the classroom. Here we go, Lily thought. 

“Yes, Mr Potter”. 

“As enlightening as Evans’s ‘feminist’ approach is…” Punctuated by finger quotes. 

She rolled her eyes. 

“Must everything be devoid of humour, intimacy or irony, because some feminist with hairy pits decided that everything must be imbued with a modern perspective,” 

“No, that-” Lily began.

“Ms Evans let him finish.”

Lily wanted to throttle Mrs Trunk, but she wanted to throttle James Potter even more. He leaned back into his seat at her admonishment. His self-satisfied smirk broadening. 

“Thanks miss, I was just going to say, before I was interrupted.” 

Punch, and then throttle. 

“That Rochester disguised himself as a gypsy, to evade the societal and class barriers that disallowed Jane and Rochester from communicating freely. Jane who was bound by her servitude to Rochester, would not have otherwise revealed her feelings, and Rochester knowing this, utilized the cloaking of irrelevance, so often afforded to those of the lower class, to engage with Jane”.

“But it’s still innately gendered,” Lily said fervently, meeting James’s stare and ignoring Mrs Trunk demand for silence. “He had to disguise himself as a woman, to prompt Jane, another woman, to divulge her feelings. It’s convenient that you left that out Potter, and revealing,” she snapped. 

“Thank you for your perspective, Ms Evans,” an overt dismissal.

James snickered. Lily snorted quietly, crossed her arms over her chest and fastened her gaze back on the whiteboard. 

“But I think Mr Potter has raised an important topic…” Lily stopped listening altogether. The pain had lessened, and now the paper cut had become itchy. Sucking on the tip of her finger, the coppery tang of blood coated Lily’s tongue. The bell rang. Lily stacked her notebook on top of her dilapidated, well-read copy of Jane Eyre, before tucking them into her satchel, and heading for the door. Mrs Trunk was clearing _societal and class barriers in Victorian England _from the whiteboard, when she said “Ms Evans, a word”.__

____

____

Lily stopped at her desk, awaiting the outrageous statement that was inevitably going to escape Mrs Trunks’ pinched lips. 

“It would do wonders for you, if you did not force your agenda on to every narrative we discuss in this class”.

It was a battle lost. 

Lily nodded obediently. 

“Yes, Mrs Trunk”. 

Old, spiteful bitch, Lily thought as she walked into the corridor.

Lily was smart. She knew it, her father knew it, her friends knew it, and the school knew it. It was a surprise to no one when the career counsellor recommended half-way through freshman year that Lily be placed in the aptitude stream of classes. Her grades for English had been consistently wonderful. Until she had been assigned to Mrs Trunk’s English class. 

The only thing one needed to know about Mrs Trunk, was that “feminist theory has set back literary study by decades”. 

Lily was by no means a one-trick pony. Her writing style varied immensely, given the essay topic, the material, the format, the genre. But when one was stuck being taught by a woman who was so old, she was probably considered elderly back in the early 1900s, the range of literature chosen for the curriculum was confined to the classics. Lily had no complaints. She loved Austen, adored the Bronte sisters, cherished Dickens, appreciated Hardy, admired Wilde. Literature rich with feminist and capitalist critique, filled with parody and societal critique, characterised by its innovation and modernity. Of course, the discussion of these themes was prevalent across her papers, and a giant, angry, red, D- stamped in the margin would stare back at Lily whenever a paper was returned to her. 

“Have you considered, that it is merely a love story, Ms Evans” Mrs Trunk had once sniped at her. 

“No, because she’s a man-hating cynic,” James Potter had murmured from his usual spot at the back of the classroom, to a chorus of giggles. 

Jane Austen’s pivotal novel, reduced by an embittered hag, to a ‘love story’. The notion enraged Lily. But the thought of never escaping Hogsworth enraged her more. Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Colombia, they would never accept her with a transcript defined by terrible English grades. Writing, Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett’s are prime examples of the ideal romantic hero and heroine that define Georgian England, as her essay opening sentence, had been a demoralizing experience for Lily, but it had opened the gateway to consistent high grades in Mrs Trunk’s class.  
Lily occasionally slipped up, like today, and said something vaguely modern, but for the most part, English was equal parts as boring as it was frustrating. 

And Lily had now become so well acquainted with the whiteboard, knowing that it was chipped on the lower right-hand side, and there was a smudge of permanent marker in the top-left corner, that she supposed she better stare at something else now. The projector would do, it had a weird knob thing, and flashed green and red sometimes. At least that was more interesting than Mrs Trunk’s archaic ramblings. 

Heading to her locker, Lily heard James Potter’s deep voice carry through the corridors.

“She never gets laid, y’know, that’s why she’s such a raging bitch all the time”. One of his groupies giggled, and another whispered “don’t say that, she’s right over there, she might hurt you”. 

“I don’t care. Hey Evans, did you hear what I just said? Bit of truth to it, huh.” 

Without looking at James, she flipped the finger in the general direction of his voice and began trawling through her locker. 

“Classy,” he remarked sarcastically as he walked past her, posse in tow. 

James Potter. He had liked her once. Used to be nice to her. That was a long time ago. He ignored her afterwards, Lily had preferred it that way, didn’t want her existence vulnerable to his scrutiny. But then he joined her aptitude stream, and he became aware of Lily’s existence once again. Lily wouldn’t deny that he was bright. He most certainly was. But he was also intolerable, and rude, and privileged, and a complete and utter cliché. She got used to his barbed comments, his derisive remarks and his overt attempts to make Lily’s life miserable. She used to get upset. Now she regarded him, like she regarded a mosquito, better left ignored, only swatted if it buzzed to close to your ear, squelched if it stung. 

“Lily, I’m so glad I caught you!” said a cheerful voice, just as Lily closed her locker after grabbing what she needed for fourth period. 

Now here was a person Lily appreciated. Marlene McKinnon, tall, blonde, beautiful, cheerleader, and Lily’s best friend. Looping her arm through Lily’s, they began to walk down the corridor, heading to their next class. 

Marlene started “I saw Leah, and she told me that Katie, you know Katie” Lily nodded, “that Katie’s brother’s girlfriend, has a friend at Durmstrang (rival school), that saw Lukovic slash Black’s tire the other day, and now Black knows, so him and the rest of the football team are heading to Durmstrang tonight for revenge”.

Lily didn’t share Marlene’s enthusiasm for gossip and didn’t particularly care for the specifics of whatever Hogswarts versus Durmstrang drama that was stirring, but she listened intently anyway. Marlene had taken to rambling whenever her and Lily walked through the halls together. It helped distract Lily from the whispers and mumbles of her fellow students as they watched her, wide eyed, walk past them. Lily knew it wouldn’t last forever. But it had been three months since the incident, and their terrified, curious, inquisitive, stares had still not faltered.

“So, I spoke to Black, cause I wanted to know what they were going to do. And he said that he couldn’t tell me because he didn’t want to put me at risk, and I thought that was sweet. But then I saw him check out Meadowes right after he said it, so kinda ruined the whole exchange”. 

“Any way enough about me, how was Trunk?”

“She was her usual, horrid, bitchy self”. 

“Wouldn’t haven’t expected anything less”, Marlene laughed, holding the door open for Lily. 

“See you at lunch,” she smacked a kiss against Lily’s cheek, and flounced down the corridor. Smiling to herself, Lily turned to face the class. 

Severus Snape. Sitting a few desks away from the door. His head lifted at the creak of it opening. Lily turned away before she could make eye contact with him, making her way over to her usual desk that was far, far away from Severus’s. In earnest, merely gazing at Severus nauseated Lily. Was it rational to have such a visceral reaction to another human being? No, it wasn’t. But Lily wasn’t about to convince herself of that. Severus had betrayed her. He had ruined a friendship of seven years, torn it up, stamped on it, tossed it in the bin, doused it in gasoline and watched it burn, all for a shot at petty fame. 

He had fucked it all up though. 

Apparently, his guilt outweighed his genuine desire to watch everything crash and burn around Lily. The Slytherins, Hogsworth High School's gang of criminals and miscreants, didn’t like that at all. So instead of sitting with Lily at lunch, or in the library, or on the bus, Severus sat with no one at all. And Lily was absolutely fine with that. 

“Please submit your final piece at 5PM Monday evening. Thank you. You are dismissed”. 

Lily rose from her seat, pushing it under the desk, and drew her satchel strap across her shoulder. 

“Lily, can we talk”, a clammy hand wrapped around her wrist, nearly pulling her off balance. Rocking on her heels, Lily felt a shudder roll through her as she recognised the voice.

“Don’t touch me”, Lily ordered, yanking her arm from his clutches. 

“It’s been more than a year, please, I can explain”. 

“You’re right Sev, it has been a year, and an explanation would have been great, a year ago”, Lily willed herself not to look at him. She made a beeline for the door. 

“Please, I’m desperate, I miss you, Lily.”

This made Lily stop. People filed past her and out the door, either oblivious to the drama that was about to unfold or attempting to escape a possible escalation between the crazy girl, who had been found with a dead body, and the school’s resident loner, who had a proclivity for arson. She turned to face Severus. He looked slimy. His face was gaunter then she had ever seen it. Hollow, sunken, waxy cheeks and peaky black eyes filled her vision. He had deteriorated significantly since he and Lily had terminated their friendship.

Resentment filled Lily, he was only nice, only tolerable, only met the bare requirements of what constituted a decent human being, because Lily had reigned him in. When they were friends, she hadn’t viewed it like that. She had laughed dismissively, when Marlene accused her of babying Severus. Told Emmeline to be quiet, whenever she would mock Lily’s concern and anxiety about Severus’s health and happiness. 

He’s not your boyfriend, or your brother, he’s just a friend, I don’t see why you have to tend to him the way you do. Emmeline’s words haunted Lily. Exposed Lily for the utter fool she was. For the naïve, ignorant girl that she used to be. 

And it had all blown up in Lily’s face. 

“You’re a fucking coward, Sev” she spat, “a fucking pathetic excuse for a human being”. 

His eyes flashed at the words. Their impact severe. Equivalent to a knife burrowing its way into his chest and shredding his insides. Then his gaze hardened, and Lily felt her stomach flip, felt bile tickle the back of her throat, panic overwhelm her senses. 

“That’s the most reasonable thing you’ve said today, Evans, hell, this whole month”. 

Potter.

Period five was about to start. 

Lily couldn’t breathe.

She whirled around, smashing into James Potter’s shoulder as she ran for the door. Hot tears stung her eyes, and her chest tightened with every desperate breath. 

“Well that was rude, Evans,” Potter called after her, but she was already in the hallway, dashing toward the bathroom. 

“Fuck off out of here Snivellus, history is about to start, and I don’t particularly wanna make any by caving your head in”, she heard Potter taunt before entering the bathroom.

...

Staring into the mirror fifteen minutes later, Lily had managed to gain some semblance of control over her emotions. Using the back of her hand to wipe away a stray tear, she counted each of her quavering breaths. 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

Inhale.

Exhale. 

Inhale. 

Her eyes were glassy, a faint flush coloured her pale face, her heart pounded in her chest, and her hands trembled slightly. Two months, she had gone, without having an anxiety attack. Would have been three, next Monday. But the moment those black, soulless eyes hardened, pure, unadulterated terror saturated every thought, instinct and reflex that ran through Lily’s mind. 

Even though she hated him, Potter’s entrance, had jolted her back to reality. 

Crying quietly in a bathroom stall, by herself, was a lot more preferable than hyperventilating in front of Severus, that was about to fill with period five students, Lily supposed.  
Studying her reflection, Lily realised that the thick cascade of her long, dark red hair had moved from its position on the crown of her head. Looping the hair tie a few times around her ponytail to secure it in place, Lily finally felt presentable. 

“Oh babe, are you okay?” Marlene’s said worriedly, as Lily sat down opposite her for lunch. Marlene could always tell when Lily wasn’t feeling the best. She supposed the dejected and exhausted look in her eyes gave it away today.

“I’m fine, I just had a bit of a run in with Snape, but it’s okay”.

“He’s not bothering you again, I hope. Remember I can get the boys to do something about it”.

Boys, being Marlene’s on-and-off fling partner, Sirius Black, and his three best friends, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and, to Lily’s disgust, James Potter. The last time, the boys had resolved an issue between Lily and Severus, it had escalated from an irrelevant spat to a complete and total blood bath. Potter hadn’t uttered a kind word to her since then. 

Lily suspected that he had internalised some of the spiteful, horrendous and incriminating things she had shouted at him that day, although he would never admit it. He was too proud for that.

Peter ignored her on principle, not wanting to disappoint James. 

Remus. Kind and compassionate Remus, who didn’t care much for drama, treated Lily like nothing had ever transpired that awful day. They studied together every Thursday, during their joint free period. 

Sirius, well “Sirius is Sirius”, Marlene would often sigh. He did what he liked, when he liked. Sirius was the only person that could tame and reign in James. They were clear equals, and due to this, Sirius felt no obligation to uphold his friend’s grudges. “Evans, did you like the dog meme I sent you?” he had asked her the other day in Chemistry. James huffed, and mumbled an obscenity under his breath as Lily had been replying. 

“What dude, she’s my friend. Not everyone’s an asshole like you”, Sirius reprimanded James afterwards, elbowing him in the ribs for his disrespect.

Whilst two, out of the four boys, weren’t complete and utter tools, combine them with one Severus Snape, and you have the recipe for disaster, throw in one Lily Evans, and it will inevitably go nuclear. 

Lily didn’t want a repeat of that day. 

“Marl, it’s all good,” she reassured the apprehensive blonde.

“Where’s Emmy?”, just as the words left her mouth, a figure dropped into the seat next to Lily.

“Speak of the devil”, Marlene muttered.

“Bitch”.

Not an unusual greeting from Emmeline Vance. She was a force to be reckoned with. Bold, angry, rebellious. Another one of Lily’s best friends. 

And she looked absolutely pissed. 

Her brown eyes flashed with anger as she began, “fucking Slughorn gave me a detention for yelling at Paulson”.

Quite a few eyes turned to the furious brunette as she slapped an open palm against the tabletop, “he fucking ruined my pants, what was I meant to do. And now I have Friday detention, fucking asshole”.

“I don’t think you said ‘fuck’ enough” Lily said dryly. 

“Whose side are you on here?” Emmeline snapped, fixing Lily with a gaze of pure rage. 

“He spilt a tiny bit of dye on your jeans, that by your own admission, said you didn’t like. Paulson, although unintentionally, gave you a reason to never wear them again.”

“Yeah he’s truly a fucking hero, Lily”, each word oozing with sarcasm. 

Goading Emmeline into a playful squabble was one of Lily’s favourite past times. It served to alleviate some of the pent-up rage that Emmeline would have undoubtedly directed at an undeserving student, who made the innocent mistake of bumping into her in the hallway, or knocking over a beaker with dye onto her jeans. 

It also never failed to make Marlene giggle. Marlene who was now chewing on her lip, in an attempt to suppress her laughter. 

“I’m just saying, he helped you out. And screaming at him in front of the whole class was kinda mean”. Lily munched innocently on an apple as she spoke, her reply nearly unintelligible. 

Judging by the way Emmeline had snapped “you never support me, I was completely justified”, Lily knew she had heard every word. 

“To be fair Em, I heard your yelling all the way from second floor, it’s possible you went a tad overboard” Marlene said timidly. Lily snorted. 

Emmeline’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “Fine, I went a bit overboard”, she spat out through clenched teeth. Lily and Marlene’s blank stares spurred on Emmeline. 

“Okay fine, I went completely overboard, are you happy now!”, she conceded, hands flailing around in defeat. 

Lily patted her on the back, “I’m proud of you Emmy. First step is admitting that there’s a problem”, she said in a patronizing tone. 

Emmeline snickered, and rolled her eyes, “fucking hell, here we go again with the anger issue theory”.

The trio laughed. 

The thing Lily enjoyed the most about their squabbles, is that they were never serious and always ended in laughter. The girls resumed their lunch and chatted. 

Lily and Emmeline were in the midst of a somewhat heated conversation about the school’s recycling policy, when Marlene blurted out, “Lily had a run in with Snape before”. 

At least Marlene had the nerve to look guilty when Lily shot her a look of annoyance and muttered, “I told you I was fine”.

“I’m worried about you, Lil. You didn’t look fine, you looked panicked”. 

“What did he say to you?” Emmeline’s voice was dangerously low.

A beat of silence passed. 

“He said he missed me, and that he wanted me to give him the opportunity to explain himself. But then he went weird after I told him that he was a shitty person”. 

Lily lowered her voice, “it scared me a little bit, but I’m fine now, seriously”. 

“That fucking prick, I’m going to find him, and kill him,” Emmeline shot up from her seat, her dark skin flushing with rage as she frantically appraised the cafeteria, trying to spot Severus. Grabbing her wrist, Lily forced her back down.

“Look guys, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but just talking to him for like thirty seconds freaked me out, okay. If you spoke to him as well it would make me feel even worse. Just please, don’t do anything, not unless I explicitly ask you too, okay”. 

Emmeline’s fists were clenched at her sides, and she looked positively ready to murder, but she nodded curtly, respecting Lily’s wishes.

Marlene gulped, “of course Lily, but please, if he upsets you let us know, we’re always here to help”. 

Lily murmured her thanks and went back to eating.

After saying bye to her friends, Lily headed to her next class, and reflected on the exchange that had just occurred. 

She loved her friends dearly, loved that they were so willing and ready to defend and protect her no matter what. And she felt the same about them. God knows, in the past year, the three girls had needed to support each other more than ever. 

Someone knocked into Lily’s shoulder, the impact so strong it ripped Lily from her thoughts and sent her flying forward. Fortunately, the hallway was crammed with students heading to next period, and Lily regained her balance by grasping onto the arm of a person a few feet ahead of her. The person who bumped into Lily, had also been thrown aside, but instead of turning to apologise or see if Lily was okay, they kept charging forward, as if in a trance. And the boy whose arm she had grasped to regain her balance, barely registered Lily. He recoiled slightly at the unexpected contact, but travelled onwards, gossiping excitedly with his friend. 

Lily thought this was all rather odd as she tugged her bag back across her chest, as it had fallen off during the impact, when she when she noticed the buzz of chatter filling the air. Chatter that was normally absent during school hours. A current of excitement was travelling through the corridor, attracting students and sending them forward on a path toward the western courtyard. The crowd doubled in size as curious students spilled out of classrooms, and teachers, yelling for them to return, joined the hoard. The crowd surged forward, and Lily who was contemplating an escape, not particularly keen to see whatever prank or dramatic incident that had inspired such blind fervour, was now tightly packed within the throng of excited students. She could scarcely breathe or move without stepping on someone’s foot, clearing a path so that she could escape was definitely out the question. 

“Oh my god, does this mean they’re gonna kill someone else now”, a pallid freshman uttered anxiously to her friend, as they waddled forward. 

Lily, who had been trudging behind them, and had inadvertently heard the girl, felt her interest pique. That seemed like a very peculiar and oddly specific thing to say, if it was a prank or a fight that had captivated the attention of this many students. Lily, hoping to catch more of the freshman’s gossip, tipped her head to eavesdrop, but the noise levels doubled as the crowd filed into the western courtyard, joining the masses of students who were already there. 

Lily estimated that more than half the school had assembled on the courtyard’s lawn. Rising to her tip toes, she perused the endless sea of heads, trying to see what had captivated everyone’s attention. 

The air was thick with anticipation, and Lily felt her heart race as she noticed that people’s gazes were fixed on the towering, dry stacked stone wall that marked the school’s boundary, and was lined with neatly trimmed box hedge bushes, and ornate, wrought-iron park benches. 

“It’s too scary, I can’t look”, someone to her left mumbled worriedly.

“What do you think it means,” someone else behind her.

“Shit, who is going to be next?” 

“Who would even do that?”

“Does that mean the murderer was at the school?” 

Any residual angst that clouded Lily’s mind after the encounter with Snape and her subsequent anxiety attack, had now been replaced with clear focus and determination. Stepping past the worried junior who had voiced the last question, Lily weaved her way through the crowd. It was no easy feat, and Lily tread on many toes, and elbowed many ribs, in her attempt to get to the front. 

The crowd petered out a few yards away from the wall, and Lily, with a shudder of horror, understood why.

MARY MCDONALD WAS FIRST. WHO WILL BE SECOND?

The writing was vibrant red, and droplets of whatever medium was used to write the message, had trailed down the brick wall and had splattered onto the box-hedges. Prostrate, on the wrought-iron bench below, was the carcase of a chicken. Blood was matted in its ruffled feathers, and the bird’s neck was bent at severe angle, the rest of its body twisted and contorted unnaturally, as if someone had wrung it thoroughly. The putrid smell of a decaying cadaver carried in the mild autumn breeze, and caressed Lily’s face. She scrunched her nose. 

She thought that whilst the sight of the mangled dead bird, was horrifying enough on its own, paired with the foreboding words above, it was a chilling and fear-inducing spectacle. A spectacle that screamed, this was done by a bored, stupid high school student for some laughs. It was amateur work. And exceedingly vulgar. 

Lily quickly slipped out her phone from her back pocket. Attempting to be discrete, she held it at her waist, and swiped open the camera. The shutter sounded, as Lily took several photos of the dead chicken and spray-painted message, but the noise was drowned out by the sound of speculative students. 

As she slid her phone back into her jean pocket, Lily heard someone gasp loudly behind her.

“What’s she doing here?” 

“Do you think she wrote it?” 

“She wouldn’t be here if she did, she would have run away”. 

Lily felt a slow smile spread across her face. She twirled around and propped a hand against her hip. The two trembling freshmen who had just been gossiping about Lily, both took a wide step backwards, their eyes flickering between the ghastly sight at the wall, and back on her. 

“If I wasn’t here it would be equally as suspicious, don’t you think?” she said in a menacing voice. The two freshmen had now completely frozen in horror. It was so pathetic, that Lily couldn’t help but whisper, “the chicken screeched when I snapped its neck”, and then she winked. 

One of the freshmen yelped in fear, and then they both scurried away frantically, disappearing into the growing crowd of students.

Lily had anticipated the stares, anticipated the whispers, and the gossiping, anticipated the negative spotlight that would inevitably be cast on her until things calmed down. And sometimes, the attention took its toll, and Lily wished that she could disappear into the walls of Hogsworth High, wished that no one knew who she was, that her existence wasn’t laid bare to unyielding scrutiny and enquiry. And sometimes it was amusing.

Lily supposed that she shouldn’t find it funny, that scaring freshmen was not a good, or productive way to spend her time.  
But, hell, after finding Mary Macdonald’s skeletal remains on the outskirts of the Great Lake, Lily deserved a little bit of humour in her life.


	3. parallel lives

After five minutes of pure chaos, Dr McGonagall had positioned herself at the base of the wall, attempting to obscure as much of the ghastly message with her body as possible, and was now yelling for students to return to class. 

“Dr McGonagall are you going to find out who did this,” inquired an eager sophomore. 

“The police have been notified, Jeremy, please go back to your class”. 

The crowd began to dissipate. The general air of excitement was now replaced by one of disappointment, as students who had been hoping to see the drama develop with the arrival of the police, were now being forced inside and back to work. 

Lily dawdled near the Great Willow tree, she had no particular desire to go to Geography, and instead was anticipating the arrival of Sheriff Gilderoy Lockhart, and his band of dim-witted officers. 

McGonagall spotted Lily but made no effort to chastise her for staying in the courtyard. McGonagall having known that Mary was a friend of Lily’s and the circumstances in which Mary’s body was discovered, clearly harboured sympathy for Lily, and had therefore allowed her to stay back. 

Lily was incredibly grateful. 

Hiding in the shade of the willow tree, there was not much else to do but wait for the police, and Lily had no desire to converse with the remaining crowd of students, so she began to chew on her nails to pass time instead. 

After a few moments, Lily’s phone began to buzz violently in her back pocket. Sliding it out, Lily began to read the messages from her group chat. 

_Marly McLovin: omg, have u guys seen the graffiti?_

_Bitchface Vance: only someone really fukcing twisted would do that_

_MM: i so want whoever did it to get caught, what an absolute shit thing to do_

_BV: legit, bet it was the bitch Bellatrix_

_Dorcas Mallorcas: 10 bucks on the slytherins, they r such fucking assholes_

_BV: seconded_

_MM: is anyone still there, i had to go back to class_

_DM: nah I left_

_MM: fkn same ___

__Lily began to type._ _

___Big Red: yup, I’m still here, waiting for the cops to show up with McGonagall_ _ _

___BR: do you guys reckon I should barf on Gildy_ _ _

___MM: you better fucking film it if you do_ _ _

___DM: gildy = absolute shit_ _ _

___BR: gildy = absolute human garbage ____ _

____Lily’s phone buzzed again, but she had already stowed it away in her pocket. Red and blue lights had flashed in her peripheral, alerting her to the arrival of Hogsworth’s finest. Lily groaned as Gilderoy Lockhart strutted across the courtyard. His chest so puffed up that Lily imagined it must have been hard for him to breathe._ _ _ _

____“Don’t fret my children, do not lose yourself to the fears of the unknown. Do not let the fear, that this awful, awful, awful display, has incited, ruin your day. Do not let it ravage your dreams, hinder your studies, or thwart your blossoming adolescence. For Sheriff Lockhart is here, and all will be well”._ _ _ _

____Lily rolled her eyes at Lockhart’s verbose entrance, her eyebrow quirking in amusement as he bowed deeply to the remaining students, some were gobsmacked, and others were fighting back laughter._ _ _ _

____She overheard James Potter, mutter “I gotta ask this dude where he gets his blow from” to Sirius Black, who sniggered in reply._ _ _ _

____Lily, despite herself, chucked under her breath. She wouldn’t be surprised if Lockhart was a coke fiend, at least it would explain his constantly peppy and hyperactive demeanour._ _ _ _

____Gilderoy Lockhart had been her father’s successor, usurping Robert Evans’s station in a relatively bloodless coup, that was fuelled by misinformation, negative press and relentless slander, concerning Sheriff Evans’s failure to solve the Mary Macdonald case._ _ _ _

____A year since her disappearance, and three months since discovering her body, the Hogsworth sheriff department, now helmed by the pompous Lockhart, and his gang of cronies, hadn’t come any closer to finding Mary’s murderer, and cracking the mystery. Lockhart was Hogsworth’s youngest police sheriff in known history, and also Hogsworth’s worst police sheriff in known history, but Lily knew the latter wasn’t regarded as fact just yet._ _ _ _

____Lockhart was young, good looking, confident, and his smear campaign against her father, had been so thorough, that her father was struggling to keep his private investigation business afloat. His clientele consisted of elderly women, whose cats had gone missing, and middle-aged men, who suspected their wives were engaging in extramarital affairs, and paid for her father to tail their every movements._ _ _ _

____Lily felt her hand twitch, wishing she could punch him square in the nose, wiping off that self-satisfied smirk as she did so, at least just once in her life._ _ _ _

____It still perplexed Lily that the township had allowed Lockhart to remain sheriff, even though one of the overarching reasons her father had been removed from office, was because Lockhart had vowed that he would be the one to locate Mary Macdonald’s body and discover her murderer._ _ _ _

____Apparently, the township had no moral qualms with forcing a well-seasoned police officer out of a job, only to be replaced, with an incompetent, and corrupt swine, who was as photogenic, as he was unqualified. Lily suspected that the township cared more about having a youthful and handsome police sheriff on the front cover of the Daily Prophet, with the headline murder of teenage girl still unsolved, instead of a greying, weathered veteran. Incompetence could be excused on the condition of attractiveness. This was just a scratch on the surface of Hogsworth’s deep structural issues._ _ _ _

____Lily began to approach the officers who were now cording off the area surrounding the bench and wall with police tape._ _ _ _

____Coming to a halt a few yards away from the scene, Lockhart must have spotted Lily, because he did a twirl and a flourish and waltzed over to her._ _ _ _

____“Ah Lily, how’s your dear father? Is he well?” Lockhart asked, his tone sugary sweet and completely artificial. And when he smiled that wide, toothy grin, that seemed to make any middle-age woman sigh in awe, Lily swore she was nearly blinded. Lockhart had spent more time at the teeth whitening clinic, than doing his job, it seemed. Perhaps that’s why he still hadn’t found Mary’s murderer._ _ _ _

____“Oh, he’s just swell Gildy,” Lily replied, injecting the same note of syrupy insincerity into her voice._ _ _ _

____Grabbing a lock of hair from her ponytail, Lily twisted it innocently around her finger, and continued “I was just wondering how long it was gonna take for you to solve this. One year, two years, a decade?”_ _ _ _

____A few surrounding students chortled at Lily’s brazenness, and the smile melted off Lockhart’s face immediately. Red-faced and clearly frustrated, that anyone dare question his capabilities in public, Lockhart stormed over to McGonagall, who was currently reprimanding a student for taking photos of the crime scene._ _ _ _

____Lily was proud of her prior tact._ _ _ _

____“Dr McGonagall, we need all students cleared immediately! They are interfering with the investigation”, his voice bellowed across the lawn, and he raised one trembling finger at Lily, “especially that one!”._ _ _ _

____Lily had to bite her lip hard to stop herself from bursting out loud with laughter._ _ _ _

____“I would appreciate it Sheriff, if you refrained from referring to my student as ‘that one’, but nonetheless, back to class, all of you!”._ _ _ _

____With a snort, Lily turned around and began to head to her class._ _ _ _

____“Way to get us kicked out”._ _ _ _

____James Potter’s appeared at her right side. His eyes flashed with annoyance, as he slowed his pace to match Lily’s._ _ _ _

____“Why don’t you go choke, Potter”._ _ _ _

____“Why don’t you get fucked, Evans”._ _ _ _

____“Guys, is this really necessary?” Sirius moaned behind the bickering pair._ _ _ _

____Lily turned to look at him, “you need to get a leash for your dog, all he does is bark”._ _ _ _

____“At least, I’m not a whiney little bitch like you,” James ran a hand through his untidy black hair, the action doing nothing to tame the thick curls. Lily had come to recognise the gesture as a sign of his growing irritation, considering he did it during all their spats._ _ _ _

____“He’s yapping again, Sirius”, Lily said in a sing-song voice, “I think its time to get a muzzle, too”._ _ _ _

____“Bitch,” Potter snapped._ _ _ _

____“Dickhead”._ _ _ _

____“Hey Lily,” a new voice called out, “good on you, Lockhart’s a fucking tool”._ _ _ _

____Kingsley Shacklebolt drew up to her left side, and Lily was too short to see the look that had transpired between Shacklebolt and Potter. But Lily assumed it was one of warning, because Potter hastened his pace, and him and Sirius were soon walking ahead of them._ _ _ _

____“Thanks Shack,” Lily sighed in gratitude, “he’s such a fucking asshole”._ _ _ _

____“Who Potter, or Lockhart?”, he asked in the slow deep, drawl of his._ _ _ _

____Lily laughed, “both”._ _ _ _

____Kingsley let out a raspy laugh, and Lily felt her cheeks pinken slightly at the sound. Tall, well-muscled with black cropped hair, and smooth dark skin, Kingsley’s entire existence made Lily blush._ _ _ _

____“I gotta run, I’m so late for Chem, but see you tomorrow, yeah”._ _ _ _

____“Of course,” the blush deepened when Lily studied the way his butt looked in skinny jeans as he ran back inside._ _ _ _

____Nice buns._ _ _ _

____…._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____“Hey dad, I think we oughta have a chat about hiring an interior designer”, Lily leaned against the threshold of her dad’s office door, a wide grin spreading across her face. Her dad’s office was the first place she headed to after school had finished for the day._ _ _ _

____“Not a chance, Petal, I like everything the way it is”._ _ _ _

____Robert Evans smiled crookedly at his daughter, from behind is creaky old desk._ _ _ _

____A biro pen was tucked behind his ear and he was tapping his foot on the ground, files on a case spread out in front of him. Warmth and comfort washed through Lily at the familiarity of the whole scene._ _ _ _

____“The carpet in the reception is fraying, and a vase with dead flowers on the welcoming desk doesn’t exactly scream ‘welcome’, does it?” Lily teased._ _ _ _

____“That’s why we rely on our regulars”._ _ _ _

____“What like Mrs Smith, and her cat. Okay, how many times has she lost Hokey this week?”_ _ _ _

____“Only three times, but I don’t count the third because she locked him in her car”._ _ _ _

____“What” Lily scoffed, flailing her hands in disbelief “who even puts their cat in a car?”_ _ _ _

____“Mrs Smith does. Don’t bad mouth our regulars, maybe that’s why we don’t have many clients”._ _ _ _

____“Okay, blame me, and not your abysmal sense of style”._ _ _ _

____“Fine, I blame you”, Robert’s eyes twinkled._ _ _ _

____Lily laughed and collapsed into the comfortable padded chair in the corner of the room, dropping her satchel at her feet._ _ _ _

____“How was school, Petal?” Robert swivelled his ergonomic chair so that he was facing her._ _ _ _

____“Trunk was horrible”._ _ _ _

____“That’s a given”._ _ _ _

____“Emmy got detention”._ _ _ _

____“Another given”._ _ _ _

____“And there was a menacing message written on the western courtyard wall, with a dead chicken underneath it”, the words tumbled from her mouth._ _ _ _

____Lily purposefully omitted any details pertaining to Snape and her anxiety attack, not too keen on startling her father more than she just had._ _ _ _

____Robert’s eyes widened._ _ _ _

____“That’s not a given”._ _ _ _

____Lily began to recount the story in great depth, spending an excessive amount of time describing how Lockhart’s face had turned beet red when she humiliated him._ _ _ _

____“I wish you hadn’t of egged him on”._ _ _ _

____“It was funny! Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done it too”._ _ _ _

____“No, I would have punched him instead, that would be a clear threat. Lockhart’s too dim to understand verbal taunts”._ _ _ _

____“Are you encouraging violence, Dad?”_ _ _ _

____“Only in Lockhart’s case”._ _ _ _

____“Fair enough”, Lily giggled._ _ _ _

____A beat of comfortable silence passed between them, and Robert went back to scribbling in his notepad, with the biro he had tucked behind his ear._ _ _ _

____Lily had been trying for years to upgrade her father’s work method, suggesting that he switch from pen and paper, to a shiny, efficient laptop, that he retire his well-worn Motorola, for a smart phone, and instead of writing and sending paper letters, he use email instead._ _ _ _

____But her father was adamant. “They can’t trace paper, Petal”, he would say. Weren’t paper trails a thing, but Lily knew better than to ask him that, considering that her father had been sheriff for nearly twenty years, and paper had yet to fail him._ _ _ _

____When Gilderoy replaced her father as sheriff, the precinct was soon decked out with the newest and flashiest technology. Her father cringed every time they had walked past since._ _ _ _

____“Petal,” Lily lifted her head at her father’s voice. She had been reading peacefully for quarter of an hour, whilst her father worked, and she had to stick a finger in her book to mark her page._ _ _ _

____“Promise me you won’t go investigating this whole chicken incident.”_ _ _ _

____Lily paused, that’s exactly what she had intended to do._ _ _ _

____“But dad, Lockhart’s never going to figure it out, I might as well have a crack at it”._ _ _ _

____“They have a police department for a reason, let them do their job.”_ _ _ _

____“What, you think Lockhart is crap though, I don’t understand-”. Robert raised a hand indicating for Lily to stop talking, and she obliged. His expression stern and too parental for her liking._ _ _ _

____“No Lily, I’m forbidding you from looking into it. Last time you did some investigating of your own, it didn’t end too well.”_ _ _ _

____Lily shuddered at the memory, but she couldn’t give up._ _ _ _

____“Yeah, but you let me help you with cases now”, she pleaded._ _ _ _

____“Infidelity and missing pets, isn’t on the same level as a message threatening death.”_ _ _ _

____“I guess”._ _ _ _

____“Promise me you won’t look into it”._ _ _ _

____A beat of silence. Lily looked down at her quad doc martens and tapped the scuffed heels together._ _ _ _

____“Lily”._ _ _ _

____Picking at the fraying hem of her jeans, Lily conceded defeat._ _ _ _

____“Fine, I promise,” but she didn’t look at her father in the eye when she said it. In some way, Lily viewed the lack of eye-contact as delegitimizing her promise._ _ _ _

____Because she never intended to keep it._ _ _ _

____If Lily had one glaring flaw, that was nearly the root of all her personal issues, it was her inability to keep her word. She wasn’t untrustworthy, no, that wasn’t quite right. She was capable of taking a secret to her grave. But defying instruction, because the contrary felt morally incorrect, was in most cases, Lily’s downfall._ _ _ _

____And if she was going to die on this hill, with a dead chicken, so be it._ _ _ _

____…._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____After reading at her father’s office for another hour, Lily hopped back in her Ford Anglia and decided to head home._ _ _ _

____At least she could sleuth for the next few hours in peace, before her father came home._ _ _ _

____“Squiddy, I’m home, where are you?” she called out, as she opened the front door to her and her father’s two-bedroom apartment. A thump and the pitter patter of paws sounded, as Lily hung up her bag on the hat rack and slipped off her shoes._ _ _ _

____A tiny face nuzzled Lily’s calf, and she bent down to scratch Squiddy behind his fuzzy black ear._ _ _ _

____“Mmmmrow”, the cat whined pitifully._ _ _ _

____“Yeah I know, you’re hungry, come on”._ _ _ _

____Tossing her keys onto the foyer table, Lily headed for the kitchen, starving cat tailing at her heels._ _ _ _

____Their apartment was cosy._ _ _ _

____The walls were painted with a sandy beige colour, and the carpet was soft and warm underneath Lily’s bare feet. The house smelt of lavender and lemon, courtesy of Lily’s incense, that was sitting atop the wooden coffee table in the loungeroom._ _ _ _

____The kitchen was connected to the loungeroom via a large stone bench, that was lined with three high stools, where Robert and Lily normally sat when they ate dinner. The third stool was reserved for Squiddy, who often jumped up during mealtimes, and attempted to steal food off of Lily and her father’s plate, and for Petunia, Lily’s older sister, when she decided to grace them with her presence, which wasn’t often._ _ _ _

____The evening sun streamed through the window above the sink and illuminated the fridge as Lily opened it to grab a tin of tuna._ _ _ _

____Scooping the fish into a bowl, Lily set it down on the ground for Squiddy. His frenzied gobbling was the only thing Lily could hear for the following minute. Propping herself up on the bench, Lily watched his tiny fuzzy head wolf down the tuna in record speed._ _ _ _

____“Greedy goblin,” she said affectionately, rubbing Squiddy’s belly after he had jumped up on the bench to curl up next to her. Squiddy, full of tuna, and content beyond belief, began to knead the meat of Lily’s thigh, the repetitive action, coupled with his loud purring and furry warmth relaxed her. Lily’s mind began to wander._ _ _ _

____She thought back to Snape, reflected on the terror she felt when he looked at her, reflected on the anxiety that muddled her brain and seized her body. Stroking Squiddy’s floppy tail, Lily decided that she wouldn’t spend another moment of her time dwelling on Snape. Determining that the next time he cornered her at the end of class, or tried to speak to her in the halls, she would resort to screaming bloody murder, or simply kicking him in the balls. The latter was more appealing._ _ _ _

____Banishing all thoughts of the greasy haired prick (part of this meant not referring to him by name) from her mind, Lily’s thoughts drifted to the ominous graffiti._ _ _ _

____Lily understood how it had inspired such a panicked and intrigued reaction from students._ _ _ _

____It was undeniably creepy._ _ _ _

____A frightening message scrawled in red paint, threatening another death, whilst a chicken lay rotting below.  
It was also incredibly sloppy. _ _ _ _

____Whilst Lily’s perception, deduction and reasoning, was rather advanced, when compared to other students at Hogsworth High, she knew it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that the message had been created by another student, and not Mary’s true murderer. Lily mentally listed the reasons why._ _ _ _

____A) The message looked like it had been written by a two-year-old. Seriously who still wrote their A’s like that, all twisted and with an extra line. A child, not an elusive murderer, who is yet to be captured._ _ _ _

____B) There was also the glaring spelling error. McDonald, instead of Macdonald. Lily assumed that if it had been the murderer who left the message, they would have known how to spell Mary’s name. Incorrect spelling kind of put a damper on the scary vibe the author had probably intended for the message to have._ _ _ _

____C) A chicken, really, a chicken. In a coastal town like Hogsworth, pet chickens were a rarity. Lily assumed it was a pet, because otherwise the person would have had to break into a poultry farm, and that would not go unnoticed, just like a missing pet chicken would not go unnoticed. Lily knew that locating the bird would be the easiest part of her investigation._ _ _ _

____D) And perhaps the most obvious reason, was that, why would any murderer evading capture, in their right mind, break into a Hogsworth High in the middle of a busy school day, dead chicken in tow and spray paint a threatening message on a wall. There were cameras, peering eyes, and vigilant teachers everywhere. No true murderer would have risked their freedom, for a shot at taunting some stupid high school kids._ _ _ _

____Lily knew all of this was reasonable. It was just the figuring out who was behind it all part that would take a little while. And she would have to do it under the radar considering her father’s demands._ _ _ _

____Her stomach rumbled, and she prepared herself a sandwich, something small to eat before her father arrived and they would eat dinner together._ _ _ _

____Swallowing the last bite of bread, Lily scooped up Squiddy off his perch next to her plate and headed for the loungeroom._ _ _ _

____After a few minutes of watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills scream at each other about something excessively inane and ridiculous, Lily, whilst still transfixed with Lisa Rinna’s lip injections, decided to turn off the TV and close her eyes for a small nap._ _ _ _

____Tucking a purring Squiddy next to her, she would wake up when her father came home later that night._ _ _ _

____…_ _ _ _

____Lily was fast asleep and sprawled across the couch when her father returned home at nearly two in the morning. Robert Evans nudged his slumbering daughter a few times._ _ _ _

____“Mgghemerm”, Lily’s eyes flickered open, her gaze landing on her father, sitting on the coffee table next to her._ _ _ _

____“Petal, I’m home now,” he caressed her cheek, “go to bed, okay.”_ _ _ _

____“But we haven’t had dinner yet,” Lily’s voice was muffled with sleep, and her bones stiff from the awkward angle she had slept in._ _ _ _

____“No worries, I ate at the office, off to bed now, sweetheart”._ _ _ _

____Lily didn’t remember anything else from the previous night when she woke up the next morning, tucked away in her own bed, wearing her flannel cat pyjamas instead of jeans and a t-shirt. She could hear Squiddy and his soft snores coming from the bottom of her bed._ _ _ _

____Yawning, Lily pulled the sheets off, stood up and quickly tied her dressing gown around her slender waist, trying to fend off the morning chill._ _ _ _

____Dropping into the wicker chair facing her makeup vanity, Lily stared at her reflection in the mirror._ _ _ _

____Her father had built the vanity when Lily had been going through one her obsessive makeup phases. The table and draws were painted a deep fuchsia colour, and the mirror was framed with tiny light bulbs._ _ _ _

____A photograph of Lily, Marlene and Emmeline, smiling and laughing at the camera, as they each stood on a different step of the grand staircase in Marlene’s family mansion, was tacked at the top left corner of her mirror. The trio were each clad in floor-length gowns, their hair curled and makeup flawless, as they were about to leave for the school dance. They were the only sophomore’s to be invited to the senior prom, a fact that had once thrilled Lily, but now, a year later, seemed completely trivial._ _ _ _

____The photo next to it was one of Severus and Lily, both thirteen and both unproportioned, pimply and lanky, in that half-pubescent way children that age often are. They were standing at the front steps of Hogsworth High, Severus’s arm wrapped around Lily’s shoulder, as she did a thumbs-up for the camera, both beaming and ready to start their second year of high school. Lily supposed she should probably have thrown out the photo by now but couldn’t muster the courage to do it._ _ _ _

____The third, and final photo, was of a young couple. A beautiful woman, with angular cheek bones, perfect, bow shaped lips, and thick, long dark red hair, was perched on the lap of a muscular, blond man, who was beaming so hard at the camera, it was apparent that he was exuberant to have such a fine women in close proximity. And the women’s smile, was soft and coy, she was clearly taken with the young man too. Her parents looked like they were very much in love._ _ _ _

____And Lily wondered, when it truly had all fallen apart, not the garbled explanation her father had given her, when her mother well and truly left for the last time, because Lily knew it had fallen apart a long time before that._ _ _ _

____Lily studied her face. She looked like her mother, had inherited her cheek bones, but they were not as severe, courtesy of her round and full cheeks, that she had inherited from her father. Her vibrant, almond-shaped, green eyes and the thick, glossy, mane of auburn hair was all from her mother. Her lips were a soft pink and her skin was smooth, and pale, and extremely vulnerable to sun damage. During summer, Lily usually had to slather a whole bottle of sunscreen all over her body, because without copious amounts of it, she would crisp up after a few minutes of exposure._ _ _ _

____Lily knew that she was pretty. She even used it to her advantage sometimes._ _ _ _

____But she also knew that she was once beautiful, when she had made the effort to apply makeup every day before school, when she wore clothes that weren’t black or denim, when she used to style her hair into elaborate braids and prance around in sundresses and dainty sandals._ _ _ _

____These things had once fascinated Lily, but not anymore, and she held no judgement against any person who derived great joy from experimenting with their personal aesthetic. She just didn’t care much for it anymore._ _ _ _

____Slicking her hair out of her face, Lily started toward the shower. It was paramount that she felt clean and rejuvenated when she arrived at school. A relaxed body meant a clear mind. And a clear mind meant she could start her investigation today._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lisa rinna... get it. squiddy = giant squid, lily would rather smooch him then james atm.


	4. i found out

Lily did not start her investigation that day, nor the following day, or the day after that. 

In fact, it wasn’t until Tuesday of the following week, when Lily began. 

When she had arrived at school that day after the graffiti incident, she had planned to survey the crime scene quickly before class, but it became increasingly apparent as Lily walked through the bustling school corridors, that it was going to be impossible. 

“Did you hear what happened?” a wide-eyed Marlene had asked upon seeing Lily at her locker.

“Huh, what?”

“Ooooooh my god, I think they are going to have to cancel the game!” Dorcas Meadows had squeaked as she joined the two girls standing at the lockers. 

Dorcas was another one of Lily’s close friends. She had been Mary Macdonald’s best friend and had been completely devastated when Mary went missing. Dorcas, who had only spoken to Lily a few times in passing, began to approach her more often since Mary’s disappearance as her father, who was still Sheriff at the time, was investigating the case. Dorcas wanted to be as close as possible to the search for Mary. And whilst, it could be perceived that she was simply using Lily for information, but it was never like that. Despite the dire circumstances of Mary’s disappearance, Dorcas had remained positive and hopeful, she had been at the forefront of every search party and spoke enthusiastically about finding Mary, safe and alive. Every time Lily had approached her with an update, she had listened keenly, clinging onto every word. After Mary’s body had been discovered by Lily, who had been greatly traumatised by the event, Dorcas had been a pillar of unrelenting support for her. Dorcas was one the kindest people Lily knew. 

“Why are they cancelling the game?” Lily was perplexed.

“Black and Potter, and a few of the other guys on the team, broke into Durmstrang last night, and completely trashed the football lockers. A few of the Durmstrang guys were still at school, and they ended up getting into this huge fight, like broken noses, black eyes, more damaged property,” Marlene had explained quickly, in the high pitch voice she normally reserved for really juicy gossip.

“This morning, McGonagall over the PA, asked for Potter, Black, Longbottom, Avery, Stebbins and Rosier to go to Dumbledore’s office. You should’ve seen them strutting down the hall, if they hadn’t looked so beat up, it would have been totally hot”. 

“It was totally hot regardless. Oh Lily, they looked so sexy, all bruised-”

Lily quirked an eyebrow at Dorcas, who giggled, and didn’t say anything else.

Marlene continued, “anyway, they came out of Dumbledore’s office looking super pissed, because apparently the Durmstrang principal is threatening to press charges, but none of the boys on the Durmstrang team are admitting that the Hogsworth boys trashed the locker room, because then they would be implicated in that fight from two weeks ago, remember that?”

Lily nodded. Four Durmstrang boys had jumped Potter and Longbottom whilst they had been at a fast food drive-in. 

“Now no one knows what’s gonna happen with the game on Friday, and all the guys look so pissed. Plus, Dumbledore is having a whole school assembly about the dead chook, and he’s invited some psychologist lecturer dude to talk to us about it as well. Everything is such a mess.” Marlene concluded, shaking her head. 

“Any updates with the cops?” 

“Nothing yet, the area is still corded off, and they have officers guarding it as well because students have been trying to take photos and shit”.

“When are you gonna start looking into it, Lil?” Dorcas asked expectantly, already knowing that Lily had plans to investigate, even though she hadn’t told her yet. 

“Not today apparently,” Lily huffed. 

…

Lily had intended to go the next day but received an ass-kicking amount of reading from Mrs Trunk. When she walked past the windows overlooking the western courtyard the day after, she noticed that Lockhart, in all his glorious buffoonery, was still poking and prodding at the dead bird, and she didn’t want to chance an encounter with him. And the following day, her dad needed her in the office, to help with some documentation, as soon as she was finished with school. The rest of the week had continued in the same vein. 

On Monday, Lockhart decided to address the group of inquisitive students that had surrounded the graffiti during lunch break. Lily had been sitting with Emmeline and Marlene under the willow tree and had unfortunately heard his pompous sermon. 

“It is with great sadness, that I must announce, that we have yet to crack this troubling case. But I can assure you all, that we shall find, and prosecute, the diabolical individual who saw fit to tarnish the great walls of this school.”

Lily’s eyes had nearly rolled out of her head, and Emmeline, looked like she was just about ready to throw her apple at his head. 

“Do not fret my dears, the truth shall be revealed soon,” and with that, Lockhart bowed deeply. 

Lockhart and his officers had cleared out of the courtyard by the next hour. But to Lily’s rising frustration, realised that Lockhart’s presence had been replaced with a team of cleaners, who were now scrubbing at the red graffiti, and scraping chunks of putrefied chicken flesh off the wrought-iron bench. 

Her hopes of taking higher quality photos with her Canon Powershot, had now been dashed, and she had to resort to studying the pixelated smart phone pictures she had taken the week prior. Lily was still determined to scope out the area though. To see if she could find any clues or evidence, that Lockhart, would have inevitably missed. So, Tuesday, it would be.

…

Lily had already suffered through a double period of Mrs Trunk’s parochial ramblings and was practically jumping out of her seat when the bell rung. Lily headed to her locker first, storing her heavy textbooks and notepads, she carefully stowed her camera in her satchel. She preferred to travel light when she sleuthed. Plus, her bag would have looked suspiciously bulky if she had packed her camera in with her books too. Lily took the longest route to the western courtyard, as the shortest required her to walk across the lawn, which was overlooked by a large stretch of windows. It was an extremely sunny day, even for Autumn, and any person walking across the lawn would have been highly visible. 

Lily decided to walk through Salazar’s Walkway, an area of school she normally avoided, but it ended in a small doorway right behind the Great Willow Tree, near the graffitied wall. Salazar’s Walkway was a dusty, narrow corridor, with high ceilings and a cobbled brick floor. Lily had always been amazed that the walkway had never been bulldozed or renovated, as it was a protected site, erected by one of the founding headmasters. It reeked of mould, stale water, and piss, and was occupied by some of the worst students Hogsworth High had to offer. Speaking of which.

“Ginger, stumbled upon any other dead bodies lately?” Bellatrix Black, who must have been hiding in a nook, jumped in front of Lily. 

Lily ignored the taunt and tried to slip past her, but Bellatrix threw out her arms, completely blocking Lily. 

“Not going to respond then, that’s quite rude. Roddy, baby Ginger here is being rude”, her black eyes narrowed. 

Roddy, being Roldphus Lestrange, Bellatrix’s equally as unnerving boyfriend. 

The pair of them were completely deranged and totally unhinged. Chancing a glance at Rodolphus, Lily with a shudder of pleasure, realised he was lying on the ground, his head propped against the mildewy wall, his eyes completely glazed. He was holding a burning joint in one hand and clasping a beer in the other. A class act, these two were. 

Both their parents were high-ranking members of the crime syndicate that spread corruption and depravity throughout the lower socio-economic areas of greater Hogsworth, and they normally hung out with other students linked to the syndicate. But today it appeared to be just the two of them. 

“I don’t think he noticed, Bella.” Lily smirked.

“I’ll be on my way now”, and she pushed past Bellatrix, who snorted in frustration, but let Lily pass.

Hoping that the rest of her walk, wouldn’t be as eventful, Lily pushed through the wooden gate, and entered the courtyard. The shade of the willow stretched all the way to the stacked wall where the graffiti had been and darkened the bench. Lily began to look around, trying to find anything and everything that could kickstart her investigation. 

But then, to her dismay, Lily heard a low cough, and she spun around to see where the noise had emanated from.

Damn it. 

James Potter was looking at her.

The Great Willow didn’t provide just Lily with cover but was a great place to recede into the shadows and conduct otherwise illicit activities that the school prohibited. Like drinking. Or fucking. Or smoking.

He was leaning against the wall right behind the tree, explaining why Lily hadn’t seen him when she exited the walkway. One of his legs was propped behind him, and his head was tipped back against the wall, a cigarette hanging between his lips. 

The patch of skin below his eye, partially obscured by the square frame of his glasses, was a dark yellow, clearly a healing bruise from his fight with the Durmstrang’s. His sharp jaw line was peppered with black and blue marks as well, and there was a deep cut through his full bottom lip. If James looked this terrible, she wandered how the other team looked. She knew James had a mean right hook. Knew he was brutal in a fight. 

He pursed his lips and blew out long stream of smoke into the air. 

“I thought smoking and playing football, was a no-go,” Lily chided, crossing her arms over her chest, and coming to a stop a few metres away from him. 

He tapped his cigarette, the ash landing next to one of his Converse clad feet. 

“Since when do you give a shit about my health, Evans,” his voice was rough. 

“I don’t actually. You know what keep smoking Potter, I’ve heard it kills you quicker”.

He didn’t reply, just took another long drag on the cigarette, and stared at the sky. 

He wasn’t in a chatty mood. That worked for Lily. And she quickly spun around and began her inspection. The faint scent of rotting bird lingered in the air, and combined with James’s cigarette smoke, Lily felt her stomach turn.

“Looking for the security cams?” James asked, as he pushed off the wall, and walked over to Lily.

Huh. Lily hadn’t thought of the cameras yet, was going to investigate them later, but James had given her an opening, so she was going to take it.

“Yup”, she said simply.

“Still got the whole Nancy Drew thing going on then? Y’know, it’s not as cute as you think it is Evans”. 

“Well crap, guess I’m going to have to retire then. Do you want my magnifying glass and flashlight, or should I just donate them to the girl scouts?”

James shrugged indifferently, “burn them for all I care”.

Another deep inhale. 

He had certainly proved himself to be useless, and in record speed.

“Thanks for your input” Lily muttered, leaving a smoking James in the shadows. She squatted next to the bench, picking up a rock that had caught her eye before. 

It was slimy and slipped right out of her fingers. Lily, for a second, thought that it was slick with the chicken’s blood, but then realised that her fingers were stained a vibrant, unnatural shade of red. It was paint, paint that must slopped onto the rock when the person wrote the message but was moved during the police investigation. The paint never cured as it was pressed into the wet ground. Lily rubbed the pads of her fingers together. It felt like acrylic, glossy, slippery and already drying on the crevices of Lily’s finger that had been exposed to the air. Lily stowed away the information in her mind, saving it for later.

Letting the rock fall back to the ground, Lily stood back up, craning her neck to see if she could scope out the security cameras.

She heard James’s footfall directly behind her. 

“What do you want?” she uttered angrily, not wanting James to waste her time, more than he already had. He cleared his throat, standing at her side and Lily shot him an exasperated look. 

Instead of responding, he ran one hand through his hair, and raised the other, pointing to a series of hanging flowerpots that decorated the north wall of the courtyard. Lily squinted, wedged between two hanging pots, a black, tubular security camera peeked out slightly. James, then gestured to the wall towering above the Great Willow. Ivy and moss covered the stacked bricks, and obscured the body of the camera, that was positioned a mere inch from the parapet. The lens reflected in the sun, and Lily could see that it was clear of greenery. 

“Those are the cams. Camera 82 to the left, and 83, to the right. Security tapes are kept in the administration office,” James explained.

Both cameras were angled toward the benches and would have both captured footage of the offender. 

“But I’m pretty sure they had issues retrieving the footage from the night, overhead Lockhart saying they had been corrupted or some shit”.

Lily groaned. This was typical Lockhart. His meandering would have inevitably given the culprit sufficient time to break into the admin room and erase the footage. Lily was also surprised, that James had been the one to relay this pertinent information to her. 

“Strange that you’re helping me,” Lily said simply.

She was grateful, but she wasn’t about to let James know that. 

James shrugged as he took another drag on the dwindling cigarette, blowing the smoke into Lily’s face and smirking as she shrieked and waved away the fumes. 

“Well even though, you’re a complete fucking bitch,” he began.

“Thanks”. 

“No worries,” he didn’t skip a beat.

“I figure that Lockhart’s never gonna work it out, so I might as well help you instead. But to be fair, I’m surprised that you haven’t led a Hogsworth inquisition accusing me of graffitiing the courtyard yet”. 

“I know it wasn’t you, Potter”

He quirked an eyebrow, “how?”

“Because you don’t know how to write, duh”.

“Good one”. 

A beat of silence passed between them. 

Lily, without thought, snatched the cigarette from James hand, and he yelped as she dropped it to the grass, and crushed it with her heel. 

Lily whirled around and took off in the direction of the courtyard gate. Not caring to obscure herself any longer, now that she had this information. 

“It’s a dirty habit, Potter. I just helped you out”, she shouted from across the lawn, her voice carrying in the wind. 

“You owe me for the camera info,” James replied gruffly. The click of his lighter, the last thing Lily heard before she slid on her headphones. 

…

Rebecka Grant. Senior. Introverted. Blunt to the point of rudeness. Temperamental at the best of times. Downright terrifying at the worst. An aide in the administration’s office. Currently sorting through her locker before fifth period on Wednesday. 

“Hey Rebecka, do you have a minute to chat?” Lily tapped her shoulder gently. Rebecka jumped at the contact, and shot Lily such a withering stare, that she took a tentative step backwards. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise this will only take a short while,” Lily assured. 

“You didn’t scare me, I’m just busy right now, and don’t have time to deal with your shit”.

What a sweet girl. Lily would have much preferred speaking to Joe Bones, who was the other aide in the office, but he was home, sick with the flu. Rebecka bite your head off Grant would have to do instead. 

“I just need a minute of your time,” Lily touched her palms together, and injected a note of desperation into her voice. Rebecka’s curt nod was all the encouragement Lily needed to begin. “You work in the administration’s office, right? By chance, were you working the day the graffiti went up?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not, but that information is dependent on how much you are willing to offer.” 

Oh. This was interesting. 

“Bribes, hah, you take bribes. Hell, Rebecka you’re more cutthroat than I thought you were”.

Rebecka’s reply was a self-satisfied smirk, but she said nothing else. 

“Well if someone tried to bribe you last week, could you tell me who they were?”

She stared blankly at Lily, and silence echoed for at least ten seconds, before Lily realised what she had to do.

“If I bribe you now, will you tell me who bribed you?”

Go one, say the word bribe one more time, you haven’t said it enough already, Lily snickered internally. 

“Fifty dollars.”

“Fifty dollars!” Lily exclaimed, “that’s steep”.

“It’s either that or nothing”, and Rebecka opened her palm and stared expectantly at Lily.

Desperate, Lily rummaged through her bag, pulling a crisp fifty dollar note out, and handing it over to her.  
After tucking the note into her bra, Rebecka began straight away. “It was an anonymous bribe. I received a text from an unknown number, minutes before everyone lost their shit and starting crowding at the courtyard.”

Rebecka grabbed her phone, punched in the password, pulled up her texts and thrust the phone into Lily’s hand. 

_rebecca grant if u vacate the admin office by 2:30 and go to the Western Courtyard i’ll transfer u $250. make sure not a single person is left behind and leave the keys at the door. ur confirmation is ur bank account number ___

__Lily handed the phone back._ _

__“When I got back, the security cameras had all been disconnected, and the footage from the whole day had been wiped.”_ _

__“Huh, are there back-up drives for the cameras?”_ _

__Rebecka shrugged, “not that I know of”._ _

__Apprehension flickered over Rebecka’s face, and she lowered her voice, “the asshole only transferred me $75 of the $250. I take bribes seriously. I jeopardised my job for this money and wasn’t even reimbursed. That’s why I asked for your cash straight up. Find this asshole, Lily. Mary was my friend too.”_ _

__Lily nodded solemnly._ _

__Rebecka slammed her locker shut, “I have to go, but thanks for the money”._ _

__“No worries”._ _

__As Rebecka walked down the corridor, Lily leaned against her locker, her mind whirling._ _

__Whoever had authored the text, has misspelt Rebecka’s name. Mary Macdonald’s name had also been misspelt. The text was awkwardly worded, and laden with grammatical errors. They were also a cheapskate. Acrylic paint was incredibly affordable and available at most stores. Rebecka had also corroborated James’s story about the camera footage being lost. The person had access, little to no money, and was a lazy writer. In other words, the person was a typical, fatigued high school student._ _

__Lily’s phone buzzed._ _

___Marly McLovin: emmy and i r getting icecream at florean’s after school, join us? xx  
Big Red: hell yeah, see u then!! ____ _

____Lily slid her phone back into her pocket, smiling at the thought of cramming her face with chocolate peppermint ice cream and hanging out with her two best friends. But first, she had to make a quick stop at Dr McGonagall’s office._ _ _ _

____Knocking on the sturdy, wooden door, Lily heard the shuffling of paper, and then “yes, you can come in.”_ _ _ _

____Lily shut the door behind her, just as McGonagall peeked up at her from the spectacles balancing on the tip of her long nose._ _ _ _

____“Ms Evans, what can I help you with?”_ _ _ _

____“I was just wondering if there were any updates with the graffiti?”_ _ _ _

____“Not yet. As you may not be aware, the security footage was deleted.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah, I heard, so nothing else then?”_ _ _ _

____“Sheriff Lockhart says the lack of footage, and I quote, has damned the case to the depths of unsolvable hell”._ _ _ _

____Lily choked on a laugh, “he certainly has a way with words”._ _ _ _

____“Lily, I must remain impartial,” but the twinkle in her eyes said otherwise, but her expression quickly became dour._ _ _ _

____“I understand you were friends with Mary, so if this incident has distressed or upset you in any way, you can always talk to me, or to the school counsellors, if you need”._ _ _ _

____“Oh, oh, no, I’m all good, but thanks though”, Lily spluttered, knowing that any distress she felt would be relieved by solving the case, and not by expressing her myriad of emotions to a stranger._ _ _ _

____McGonagall’s nod was curt, “best off to your next class, Ms Evans”._ _ _ _

____…_ _ _ _

____“Caress the raku, feel it slip through your fingers, treat it with the utmost care. STOP O’CONNOR, DO NOT STAB IT, THE KNIFE IS MEANT FOR SCULPTING NOT PUNCTURING”. Ms Sprout’s bellow echoed through the corridor, making Lily jump as she walked past the art classroom, on her way to period six._ _ _ _

____Lily peeked through one of the glass windowpane’s overlooking the classroom and saw a gaping hole on the side of Miles O’Connor’s pinch pot, undoubtedly where he had assaulted the clay. Ms Sprout was standing next to him, her face red, plump body trembling in anger, when Lily saw a collection of paint tubs stacked on a tall shelf in the corner of the room._ _ _ _

____Everything else became background noise, O’Connor’s spluttering, the chatter of students sculpting and gossiping, the final bell indicating class had begun. Lily entered the classroom._ _ _ _

____“Ms Sprout, hey, do you have a minute?”_ _ _ _

____“I have more than just a minute for you, Lily, anything to get away from this lot, treating the clay like that, bah,” she shook her head in exasperation, and wiped her dusty hands on the front of her apron._ _ _ _

____“What is it dear?” Sprout inquired, as her and Lily walked to the front of the classroom._ _ _ _

____“I’ve recently taken up painting, I heard it’s really good for stress relief, y’know, and I would love to see the collection of paints that you have, to expand my palette, and ah, what not.”_ _ _ _

____Lily cursed her bumbling. She couldn’t have sounded convincing if she had tried, but it didn’t matter. Sprout, who always sought to nurture interest in the fine arts, beamed at Lily._ _ _ _

____“Excellent, oh that’s so lovely to hear. Go on, have a look over there, acrylics and oils are on the third and fourth shelf, watercolour on the first, gouache on the second. There is more in the back, but I can show you that later”._ _ _ _

____Uttering her gratitude, Lily quickly scurried over to the paint shelf._ _ _ _

____Five minutes later, she had searched every paint-speckled ledge, and it was clear something was awry. Yellow, blue, green, black, white, and orange tubs of acrylic paint lined the third shelf, the tub sealed tightly by a thin layer of airtight plastic. All unopened, all brand new. And one glaring omission. The colour red._ _ _ _

____That wasn’t suspicious at all._ _ _ _

____“Ms Sprout, whereabouts did you say the other paint was kept?”_ _ _ _

____“In the back room, dear. I’ll just grab a key for you”._ _ _ _

____Whilst waiting for Ms Sprout to retrieve the key, Lily paced slightly, walking past a table in which two students watched her warily, fear reflected in their eyes. Lily was about to sneer at them, when Sprout returned, bronze key dangling from her weathered fingers._ _ _ _

____“If you take anything, from the backroom or the shelf, make sure you list your name, along with the items you took on the clipboard. It’s hanging on the back of the door.”_ _ _ _

____The backroom was dark, damp, and dingy. It reeked of mildew and paint stripper, and every available space was crammed with art supplies. Perusing the space, Lily picked up a jar of something she couldn’t identify, because the glass was covered in a thick layer of dust. Lily set the jar back down harder than she had intended, and the shelf shook, a few items cluttered to the ground._ _ _ _

____It wasn’t exactly difficult for Lily to spot the brand-new tub of red acrylic paint, resting near her feet. The tubs metal exterior a clear shining red, yet to be tainted by the grime of the backroom. It had been obscured by a chunk of linen, that slid to the floor when the shelf was agitated._ _ _ _

____Digging her nails into the rim of the lid, the tub opened with a pop. And like Lily had anticipated, it was nearly empty. Lily quickly snapped a photo of the empty contents of the tub, before sealing it, and covering it with the linen, returning it to its original state._ _ _ _

____Lily rose to her feet, key in hand, about to exit the room, when her eyes fell on the clipboard._ _ _ _

______Make sure you list your name, along with the items you took._ _ _ _ _ _

______A thrill worked its way through Lily’s body. She frantically scanned the list, lifting the corner of the top page, when she couldn’t see the date corresponding to the graffiti incident. She was on the third page, when she saw it._ _ _ _ _ _

______Art students at Hogsworth were incredibly diligent it seemed, every student without fail, had listed the date, their name and the items they had taken, crossing out the row when they had returned the items._ _ _ _ _ _

______Except for one student._ _ _ _ _ _

______Her name carefully printed in cursive, next to the date, the same date as the incident, and then a gap where she should have written the borrowed item. Except it was blank. And no one else had borrowed red paint the day prior, or the day following the incident._ _ _ _ _ _

______Tahlia Trelawney. Lily couldn’t wait to have a chat._ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
